


Touch

by The_Audacity



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Audacity/pseuds/The_Audacity
Summary: Ichigo does 'the staring thing' again and Uryuu finally calls him out on it.
Relationships: Ishida Uryuu & Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 4





	Touch

Ishida wasn’t doing anything weird. He wasn’t doing anything at all. He was just sitting there reading one of his billion novels that always seemed to take him exactly one point three hours to read, and no longer. He turned a page, and suddenly it was like Ichigo could see him in a brand new light. It was a revelation, except he didn’t understand what it meant.

For two solid minutes, he couldn’t take his eyes off Ishida. He tried so hard to figure out what it was. What about his friend had changed? What was it that Ichigo had never noticed before? Whatever it was made his heart beat a little faster. His palms started to sweat. Ishida turned another page and shifted his legs to cross one ankle over the other. Ichigo swallowed, not knowing why such a minuscule movement had captured his full attention.

Ishida looked up and caught him staring. Ichigo froze like a startled deer.

“What?” Ishida asked him.

“Nothing,” he answered, and went back to staring at his own book instead.

There was a strange night where they all got stuck in town waiting out the rain. Keigo and Mizuiro dashed for a convenience store on the corner. Chad, Tatsuki, and Inoue ran for an awning across the street. There was barely room for the three of them, so he and Ishida headed for a covered bus bench up the street. They were soaked by the time they got there, but at least the scratched plastic walls blocked the cold wind. Ichigo glanced at him and felt his breath hitch.

Ishida’s arms were crossed against the chill but his face was turned toward the sky. He didn’t seem to mind the water dripping from the ends of his hair and speckling his glasses. His expression was relaxed, almost awed. He was watching the raindrops fall with the tiniest smile. The blue-green shine of a street lamp made his fair skin gleam in the darkness. He licked the cool, sweet wetness from his lips and his smile widened just a bit. Ichigo suddenly felt warm, when he’d been close to shivering a few seconds ago.

Blue eyes flicked to his. “What?”

He turned his head away and said, “Nothing.”

Ichigo was kind of fascinated with the way Ishida ate. Slow and measured, like an old man who had nothing better to do than savor every bite right up until his last. He wielded his chopsticks as if they were an extension of his hand. The natural grace of his long fingers was obvious. His smooth black hair shifted and caught the light whenever he leaned forward to sip from a bowl or cup. His mouth was flushed pink from the heat of his food. He made a small sound of satisfaction after finally finishing his meal, and sat back with a happy sigh.

He noticed Ichigo watching him from across the table. “What?”

Shaking his head, “Nothing,” he said, and stirred the dregs of his ramen.

It was supposed to be a guys’ camping weekend. Chad had been busy with something else. Mizuiro backed out last minute for a date with his girlfriend. Keigo had to jet after he ate some wild berries that made him nauseous. That left Ichigo alone in the quiet woods with—guess who? They would have packed it in and headed home but Ishida didn’t like driving on country roads in the dark. Too many accidents happened at night, he said. He didn’t want to hit any innocent animals, he said. He was already tired so why didn’t they just call it a night and drive back in the morning, he said.

That was how they wound up sharing a tent, plopped atop their sleeping bags munching trail mix for dinner and listening to the crickets chirp outside. The lantern they had brought was adjustable. Ishida had dialed it to the dimmest setting so ‘the light wouldn’t interrupt their circadian rhythm’ or whatever. But at that wavelength, the light was less harsh. It was softer, more like steady candlelight. Ishida’s eyes looked softer in that light, too. They were very blue, amplified by his blue sleeping bag and the blue t-shirt he wore.

For maybe the first time ever, Ichigo noticed how unique the color of his eyes were. Such a deep, calming, beautiful blue. Like the sky just after dusk, right before it faded to black.

“Kurosaki—”

“Nothing,” he blurted reflexively.

Ishida blinked at him. “I haven’t asked you anything yet.”

“Well, you were going to.”

“Not about the staring thing.”

“What staring thing?” Ichigo challenged with forced bluster.

“The staring thing you’ve been doing for the past three weeks.”

He scoffed. “You’re crazy, Ishida. There’s no staring thing.”

“Then why did you say ‘nothing’ if you weren’t expecting me to ask ‘what?’” he cleverly countered with one eyebrow arched, “because of the staring thing.”

“I’m telling you, there’s no—”

“Whatever, Kurosaki. I wasn’t going to ask about that. Why bother when I already know you’ll never answer? I just wanted you to pass me that water canteen in the corner behind you.”

Ichigo handed him the canteen, frowning and feeling guilty because they both knew Ishida was right. There was totally a ‘staring thing’ and it had actually been going on for more like five weeks now. Ishida had only noticed the trend after two weeks had already passed.

“Even if there was a staring thing, it’s not like it would be a big deal or anything,” Ichigo mumbled.

“I never said it was.”

He sulked some more, glancing at Ishida from the corner of his eye. He was careful not to stare. It was harder than it should have been.

“All right, so maybe I stare at you a little sometimes. So what?” Ichigo’s frown deepened to see him shrug. “Maybe I stare at everyone sometimes.”

Ishida neatly packed the rest of his trail mix into his bag and pulled out a book to read before bed as he said, “You don’t. I checked.”

“You checked? The hell does that mean?” He sighed and chose not to answer Ichigo’s question. “Okay,” he regrouped to say, stuffing his snacks into a pocket of his backpack and shoving it aside. “I admit it: I stare at you sometimes.” Ishida looked up from his book to acknowledge Ichigo’s honesty. “But it’s not ‘cause of anything weird or creepy.”

“Really?” Ishida asked in a skeptical tone. “Why _do_ you stare at me?”

“Because…”

“Because…?”

“Because I—Look, it’s stupid, all right? I won’t do it anymore, so just forget I ever mentioned it.”

“Fine.”

He went back to reading his book. But Ichigo got the distinct impression that Ishida had assumed his reasons were completely weird and creepy. Ichigo wasn’t comfortable with the idea that his friend thought of him that way. The truth wasn’t even that bad. It was just incredibly embarrassing.

“It really isn’t anything creepy,” he insisted.

Ishida didn’t even look up that time. He wondered, “Then why can’t you tell me the reason?”

“It’s awkward.”

“Kurosaki, everything about you is awkward,” he replied and turned a page.

“You’re awkward.” When Ishida didn’t take the bait, he switched tactics. “If I tell you the reason, you’ll be pissed.”

“How do you know? Last I heard, your powers hadn’t evolved into reading minds.”

Ichigo was only making this worse. He had said it wasn’t a big deal, but it was becoming a bigger deal with every dumb word that came out of his mouth. At this rate, Ishida was going to come up with all sorts of wacky reasons for why Ichigo sometimes stared at him.

“Put your book down and I’ll tell you.”

Ishida snapped his book shut, set it on the tent floor beside him, and stared straight at Ichigo. “Well? Let’s hear it.”

He struggled not to fidget where he sat. He really did believe Ishida would be angry with him once he heard the reason. Although Ichigo didn’t mind arguing with him for the hell of it, he hesitated to do anything that would genuinely piss Ishida off. Fessing up was almost guaranteed to do exactly that. But it was too late to back down now.

“S-sometimes I look at you and I think…” He looked at Ishida and felt himself begin to blush as he thought aloud, “It might be nice to touch.”

There was silence as they stared at each other. Ichigo looked away first. It took Ishida a full minute to respond.

“Touch?” Ichigo gave the slightest nod to confirm it. “How?”

He raked a hand through his hair as he scrounged for the least creepy way to answer that. Ishida didn’t sound mad yet, but he would explode once he understood what Ichigo was dancing around.

“You know what, Ishida? Never mind.” He forced a laugh. “This is so lame. I’m an idiot, right? Don’t listen to me; I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.”

“Yes, you are an idiot,” he said, sounding annoyed, “if you think you can tell me you want to touch me and leave it at that. I want an explanation, Kurosaki. Stop acting like a child and just be a man about this—whatever ‘this’ is.”

Ichigo cringed. He was afraid Ishida would say something like that.

“It’s too embarrassing to say shit like that out loud!”

“If it’s too embarrassing to say it, then…why don’t you show me?”

Ichigo looked up, stunned to hear it and even more stunned to see Ishida was serious. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But that’s…” Ichigo shook his head. “Ishida, I don’t think you realize what you’re asking.”

Stubbornly, he said, “One way to find out.”

Ichigo felt nervous and excited at the same time. If Ishida didn’t get it, this was not going to end well. But if he did and he was asking Ichigo to do this anyway, then…

“O-okay, but, uh,” he stammered, scooting closer to Ishida, “if you hate it—”

“I’ll let you know,” he said in a way that convinced Ichigo his consent would never be in doubt.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he slowly raised his hand. He paused before his fingers made contact, waiting for Ishida to call it off. Call him a moron. Call someone to come pick him up so he wouldn’t have to deal with Ichigo’s creepy weirdness anymore. But Ishida didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even blink.

Ichigo touched his hair, fingertips barely grazing the soft strands. Just as soft as he’d imagined. When Ishida still didn’t react, he lightly brushed his fingers through dark hair. Ichigo swept back his fringe and tucked it behind his ear like he’d seen Ishida do a thousand times. He let the side of his thumb trace the curve of Ishida’s ear along the way. Ichigo heard him make the smallest noise and assumed it was one of disgust.

“This is nuts,” he said, drawing his hand back, “I know. You can say it.”

“That’s all?” Ishida said instead. “Did you really make such a fuss because you wanted to _pet me_?” Whatever expression Ichigo was making must have been funny: Ishida was laughing at him. “You are ridiculous, Kurosaki.”

“That’s not all,” he admitted before he could chicken out again. “Are you sure you wanna know?”

Ishida rolled his eyes. “Feel free to quit being dramatic any time.”

That settled it. Ichigo moved closer and touched the edge of his glasses. “Can I take these off?”

“If you like.”

He slid the frames from Ishida’s face, folded and set them aside. There was nothing between him and those eyes. Ichigo figured it was probably his best feature. Nobody had eyes like that. Ishida’s skin was flawless, too. It was kind of creamy in a way that almost made him want to taste. Ichigo touched the side of his face, fingertips following the line of his jaw. He paused when his focus fixed on Ishida’s mouth.

“What if I don’t just want to touch?” Ichigo quietly asked him.

Ishida didn’t reply. He also didn’t retreat when Ichigo leaned forward. Ishida sat still and compliant as a hand glided down to rest at the back of his neck. Ichigo touched his lips to the warm curve of his throat and hesitated there for several seconds. If Ishida still didn’t understand where he was going with this, he never would. So, when he didn’t object, Ichigo moved up a few centimeters and touched his lips there, too. The hollow below his jaw was next. Then the edge of his cheekbone.

Finally, he made it to Ishida’s mouth but hesitated again. This was the point of no return. If Ichigo went for it and got pushed away, it would hurt like hell.

Ishida’s lips parted the barest fraction, and it was enough.

Ichigo touched their lips together and held them there as long as he dared. He felt a flush of heat and emotion that set his heart pounding in an instant. He couldn’t believe Ishida was allowing this. That he hadn’t tried to hit Ichigo or even curse at him. He was kissing Ishida! And that was okay? Ichigo withdrew just far enough to murmur Ishida’s name between them with a question in his tone.

“Three weeks of staring, just for a kiss?” he teased.

The corner of Ichigo’s mouth quirked upward as he corrected, “Five weeks. And I’ve wanted more than just a kiss.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he said and kissed Ishida a second time. “A lot more.”

He evaded a third kiss. Ichigo tensed for the rejection at last. But Ishida simply looked him over and said, “Show me.”

Ichigo kissed him again. And again. And again. So many times he lost count. Ishida never pushed him away, but kept kissing him back each time. Every kiss added a little more to Ichigo’s courage. The barest pressure of palm to shoulder was a silent request. Ishida eased down to lie on his sleeping bag and let Ichigo lie beside him. He drew Ishida close as they kissed, pushing a hand into his hair to run fingertips across his scalp. Ichigo felt him shiver and heard another of those tiny sounds. Was it a sound of pleasure? Could he get Ishida to make more of them?

“Would it gross you out if I used my tongue?” asked Ichigo a bit hoarsely.

Ishida gripped the front of his shirt in a fist and replied, “How many times do I have to say it before you understand? I want you to do whatever it is you’ve been thinking about when you stare at me. Whether that means touching, kissing, or licking I don’t care, Kurosaki. I want you to _show me_.”

“Fuck…” he whispered as a hot flare of lust ignited in his gut. “Okay, I get it, Ishida. I’ll show you what I’ve been thinking about.”

They were sounds of pleasure, Ichigo confirmed as he touched Ishida’s tongue with his. The better he felt, the more of those little sounds he made. They started to get louder as Ichigo moved on top of him to rock their bodies together. He could feel Ishida getting hard. Ichigo already was. And although he still felt a tad unsure about touching his friend in certain ways and certain places, he took Ishida’s words to heart. Ichigo showed him exactly how he had wanted to touch, kiss, and lick.

He rubbed his thigh against Ishida’s dick. The way he gasped made Ichigo feel tingly from head to toe. He wanted to make Ishida come. Couldn’t wait to hear the sounds he’d make for it. But Ichigo forced himself to be patient. There was no way of knowing if Ishida would ever let him do this again. If tonight was his only shot at living out his fantasies, Ichigo needed to make it last. He had to be thorough or he’d never forgive himself for wasting this chance.

A touch to Ishida’s bare waist didn’t make him tense, so Ichigo let his hand drift upward. He pushed up Ishida’s shirt as he went. When it got up to his armpits, he helped Ichigo take it off entirely. Ishida let him kiss his chest and feel the firm shapes of his muscles there. He made another one of those sounds as Ichigo rolled his tongue over a nipple. His eyes were closed when Ichigo glanced up to check, and his expression was relaxed. Ishida was enjoying this! Maybe not as much as Ichigo—he wasn’t sure that was possible—but it was enough.

He curled his fingers around Ishida’s waistband but hesitated again. The things Ichigo wanted to do, all the ways he wanted to touch…he wasn’t sure Ishida would want him to. He knew Ishida would tell him to back down in a heartbeat, if that was what he wanted, but Ichigo still felt like he needed some confirmation to continue.

Since he wasn’t continuing, Ishida opened his eyes and looked at him. He must have seen the uncertainty on Ichigo’s face, because he gave the slightest sigh of annoyance and nodded permission. Ichigo smiled, and leaned down to kiss him as he began sliding Ishida’s pajama pants down.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Ichigo wasn’t sure what to think about that, but his dick told him it was a good sign. A very good sign. Ishida’s dick seemed to agree. It was fully hard now, and gave a little twitch when Ichigo lightly touched the shaft. Ishida turned his head aside to take a deeper breath, so Ichigo started kissing his neck instead. He sucked a mark into the sensitive skin of his throat as he stroked Ishida’s erection tentatively.

Ichigo almost stopped when he felt Ishida’s hands grip his arms but he realized they were just holding, not pushing. Another good sign. He started shifting under Ichigo as his breathing picked up. Ishida wasn’t making those little sounds as much. Did that mean he wasn’t enjoying it as much anymore? Ichigo changed his grip and stroked him a bit faster to check. Ishida’s breath caught, then quickened again. He was practically panting, squirming between Ichigo’s knees. Was Ishida gearing up to shove him off? Or was he just getting close to his limit?

As much as Ichigo couldn’t wait to watch him come, it was too soon. There were still too many other ways he wanted to touch.

He let go of Ishida, expecting him to object or at least make some unhappy noise, but all he did was work to catch his breath. He looked at Ichigo without saying a word. Ishida was waiting for him to make his next move, to _show him_ the rest. Ichigo felt another pulse of desire burn through him over how hot that was.

He swiped off his own shirt and pressed their bodies together as he kissed Ishida deeply, exactly the way he’d been wanting to for weeks. Ishida wound his arms around Ichigo as he kissed back with equal energy. He knew it was proof that Ishida wanted this. Had he been wanting to kiss Ichigo for weeks, too?

The answer became obvious once Ishida reached down to impatiently shove Ichigo’s pants and boxers off. When he succeeded in clearing the last layers between them, Ishida broke the kiss to moan about it. Ichigo ground their hips together just to hear that sound again. He hid a giddy smile against Ishida’s shoulder. Never in his wildest dreams and fantasies had Ichigo imagined he could be the one to make Ishida moan like that.

“Kurosaki…” Or call his name so breathlessly. “I want your hips between my thighs.” Or hear him say something so insanely sexy.

He adjusted their positions the way Ishida had told him to, braced on his elbows above him. The instant he started grinding against Ichigo, all on his own, he groaned and started to come. Ishida followed soon after. He looked up at Ichigo with this sultry, half-lidded look that made him shiver from head to heel. Ishida pulled him down for a slow kiss between slowing breaths. Ichigo combed fingers through his messy hair as he happily returned it.

Yet, as he moved off Ishida to lie beside him, he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. It was over. His fault for going too far too fast. Should’ve paced himself more.

Ichigo saw him reaching for a towel rolled up beside his pack and said, “Hang on, I’ve got wet wipes.”

He dug them out of his bag and handed them over, then gazed forlornly at the tent’s slanted ceiling.

A moment later, Ishida’s face hovered into view. He asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Noth—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘nothing.’”

Ichigo bit back his impulsive response. “There was just a lot more I wanted to do,” he reluctantly confessed.

Ishida cocked one eyebrow. “You’re sulking because you have to wait ten minutes?”

“I’m not sulk—Wait, _what_?” Ichigo snapped upright, almost bonking their heads together, and stared at Ishida with widened eyes. “Ten minutes?”

“Give or take.” He shrugged. “Unless you have a long refraction period. We can just make out until you get hard again.”

“We can— _What_?”

“You’re a decent kisser, Kurosaki.” Smirking teasingly, Ishida added, “Much better than I thought you’d be, anyway.”

Glossing right over both the clear compliment and the subtle insult, Ichigo asked, “Are you saying we can keep…doing stuff like this together?”

He took a drink from his water canteen before replying, “I’m game. You?”

It felt like his brain had imploded. After weeks of staring at Ishida and secretly wanting him, could it really be this easy?

“Y-yeah, I…Are you sure?”

Studying Ichigo for a long moment, he said, “I can see you’re struggling with this, so I’m going to tell you something that might make you upset with me.”

As if he wasn’t shocked enough, Ishida’s words only shocked him more. Shakily, he asked, “What is it?”

“I planned this.” Gesturing to the tent in general, he explained, “Us camping, alone, with the intention of getting to the bottom of your ‘staring thing’ once and for all.” Ichigo made a petulant face at that but didn’t interrupt. “I figured it was either because you were seriously going crazy…or you were having dirty thoughts about me.”

“That obvious, huh?” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as it prickled with embarrassment. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry. I was having dirty thoughts about you, too.”

He looked up at that. Ishida flashed him a quick smile and Ichigo’s stomach felt all fluttery.

“O-okay, but how’d you work it out so we’d be alone? It was supposed to be a guys’ trip.”

“I asked Sado-kun to stay home and bribed Kojima to spend time with his girlfriend instead.” He paused, looking askance. “Also, I may have…mildly poisoned Asano by suggesting those berries were safe to eat. But he’ll be fine in the morning.”

“All so you could get me alone for the night?” He shook his head. “Ishida, sometimes your brain is fucking _scary_.”

Laughing at that, he said, “Thank you.”

“I’m not mad, though. I’m glad you set this up,” Ichigo told him as his eyes drank in Ishida’s nude form. “Really glad.”

Without warning, he pushed Ichigo down and climbed on top to kiss him wildly.

At his surprised sound, Ishida paused to taunt, “Think you can keep staring at me like that and get away with it? This is what’s going to happen, Kurosaki,” he ran his hand down Ichigo’s front until they made contact with a reviving part of his anatomy, “every time you do the ‘staring thing’ from now on.”

He moaned and held onto Ishida as he began to touch.


End file.
